The Seduction
by NerdyArtsyUnderdog
Summary: Two times Puck and Rachel try to seduce each other, and one time... well... you'll just have to read and see!
1. There's little things you hide

TITLE: The Seduction

SUMMARY: Two times Puck and Rachel try to seduce each other, and one time... well... you'll just have to read and see!

SPOILERS: All aired episodes

DISCLAIMERS: _Glee_ is not mine, unfortunately. It belongs to Ryan Murphy Productions and FOX. Chapter titles and sub-heading lyrics belong to George Michael & Sony Music Entertainment; other lyrics in Chapter 1 belong to Kings of Leon & RCA Records.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This little plot bunny hopped into my head a couple weeks ago, when I downloaded George Michael's _Faith_ from iTunes, because I was in the mood to listen to it, but the cassette (yes, I said "cassette") wore out long ago. "I Want Your Sex"came on, and I started thinking about how it would be for two people who _**really**_ want to have sex with each other not be able to make it work the way they think it should. And because _Glee_ has eaten my brain and taken over my life, the two people who immediately came to mind were none other than Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry. This is what I'm calling a "near future!fic": it takes place after "Sectionals", but still during the current McKinley High academic year. Please, please read and review: this is my first fanfic ever, and constructive feedback is greatly appreciated.

I'd also like to give major thanks to **une fille**, **Glow**, **Nova802**,** CountryGirl914**,** dress_without_sleeves, radcgg**, and** heymamawolf**: _fantastic _writers whose Puckleberry stories, in particular, have inspired my own (as will be obvious by all the shout-outs I've strewn throughout my story).

* * *

**Chapter 1: **_**There's little things you hide...**_

_And little things you don't_

Noah Puckerman knows that Rachel Berry wants to have sex with him. Like, _really_ wants to.

Of course, she pretends she doesn't: "Noah, I really feel that we should wait until our relationship has reached a level of maturity suitable to engaging in such a significant and profound event. And, although I am quite mature for my age - more so than you though you are older than I - this is not something that I want to rush into just yet because we've only been together - like, _really_ _together _- for a few months, and the first time I have sex needs to be perfect and special and magical and befitting of my future acting career as the stunning young ingenue everyone roots for. And, even though I know that you are more than capable of providing such an experience for me given all the rumours about your sexual prowess - "They're not rumours, Berry" (he's surprised he actually managed to get some words in edgewise) - nevertheless, I just think we need to wait and be _sure_, that's all."

But, every now and then, he'll catch her... well... _ogling_ him. Her big, dark eyes get - incredibly - even bigger and darker... like molten chocolate laced with fire and spice... And the colour rises in her checks, and she bites on her lower lip just a little, tinging it a deep, berry red. And sometimes, when they're cuddling/making out/talking/touching/just _being_ on the couch together, she'll brush her fingers lightly down the back of his neck, or slide her foot along the inside of his leg just a _little_ higher than could be considered accidental, or lace her fingers in between his s_o tight_, they start to tingle from the numbness...

It drives him fucking crazy (not as crazy as Berry, though. _No one's_ as crazy as Berry), because he doesn't know what to do. What will it take for Rachel to give into her obvious desire to have sex with him? Anyone who rocks the "sexy librarian" look as well as she does has _got_ to have a freaky sex beast hidden inside. And Puck wants to be the one to let it out. But how? Pressuring Rachel to give it up is out of the question - he's a badass, not a douche. (Besides, as Lima, Ohio's only God of Sex, he's _never_ had to pressure a woman to have sex with him. I mean, c'mon! Have you seen his guns?!) Begging Rachel is too ridiculous to even consider. Noah Puckerman Does. Not. Beg.

He has _asked_ her, though, several times. He's not exactly sure how many. (Seventeen.) And each time, her answer is some version of the "I really feel that we should wait" speech: sometimes shorter (thankfully), sometimes longer (during which he stops listening because, after "No", why does he still need to pay attention?). It has gotten to the point where he feels like he's in some kind of Bizarro World game show, complete with a cheesy announcer who sounds like that guy who comes on right before Sue's Corner: "How Many Times Can _You_ Ask Your Girlfriend to Have Sex with You? Guess right, and you could win _One Million Dollars_!!! (And also get to have sex with your girlfriend.)" At this rate, Puck is going to lose this game. Badly.

If he thinks about it - and that's a _big _if - his desire to have sex with Rachel is more than just 'cause he wants to have sex (well, it's mostly about more than that). It's 'cause he wants to have sex with _Rachel_: crazy, diva-to-the-max, driven, talkative, confident, bubbly, determined, sexy, hot, talented, smart, funny, dependable, beautiful, loving, caring, generous Rachel. _His_ Rachel. Somehow, he thinks that if he can have sex with "his girl" - 'cause, let's face it: all the others were never his, no more than he was theirs - then it'll mean that he's really not just some fucked-up kid with no father and no future. He's someone who is loved. Who is worthy of being loved.

One night, he and Rachel are watching a movie at her place. It's called "Take the Lead" or something like that, and it has that Spanish dude who played Zorro in it. Puck thinks that the Zorro dude is kinda like Mr. Schue: he really thinks his detention students are going to be super-interested in something so _totally lame_ like ballroom dancing. (Not that Puck thinks glee club is lame, not really. He actually enjoys it, because he's good at it. Plus, he gets to watch Rachel twirl around in those tiny skirts of hers.) Puck has only been half-paying attention to the movie, but he perks up when the Zorro dude brings one of his advanced private students to detention to show the class how to tango. The girl is hot - though, truthfully, Puck is _so over_ the ice-cold blonde look: he much prefers warm, dark, mysterious girls whose eyes could swallow you whole if you'd let them - but the way she moves is... mesmerizing. She's strong, and sensual, and controlled, and it's sexy as hell. And the way the Zorro dude moves around her is... predatory and gentlemanly, all at the same time. (If Puck's English teachers ever knew that he was capable of such critical analysis, they'd probably have a heart attack.) Even though she's dancing with her teacher, and he with his student, there's nothing creepy about what they're doing. There's a clear understanding between them, and a deep sense of respect. The way they touch and move around each other gives Puck the feeling that this dance is actually a conversation, one that's as old as time. When it's over, realization hits him right between the eyes, kinda like the paintball pellets he once fired at Finn: he doesn't need to _ask_ Rachel to have sex with him.

He just needs to _seduce_ her.

(Duh.)

* * *

_I swear I won't tease you, won't tell you no lies_

Rachel Berry knows that Noah Puckerman wants to have sex with her. Like, _really_ wants to.

Of course, he _is_ a teenaged boy, not to mention the (self)proclaimed Stud of McKinley High School. So, wanting to have sex is pretty much a given. Yet, somehow, Rachel knows that it's not _just_ about sex this time. Noah actually cares deeply for her, and his desire to have sex with her has a lot to do with the fact that he's not good at expressing how he feels through words. Rachel didn't fully understand this about him until all of the drama about Finn, Quinn, and the baby exploded several months ago...

As Rachel was leaving Quinn sitting alone by the trophy case, she passed Noah on his way over to her. They caught each other's eyes, and in that brief moment, it felt like a thousand meanings were conveyed:

_"I know I fucked up, but I'm wanna man up and deal with it._

Good. I am very sorry that I outed you, but it had to be done.

_I'm kinda glad you did, because not telling the truth was killing me._

I know.

_Good. _

I'll be there for you, too, if you want.

_I know." _

That wordless conversation stayed with Rachel for a long time afterward: all through the tension and awkwardness at glee practice; all through the time she spent alone with Finn (they never really dated, because Finn was absolutely destroyed by what his girlfriend and best friend had done to him. And at some point - she's not exactly sure when - Rachel realized that her feelings for Finn had morphed into the deep, abiding love that only develops between the closest of friends); and all through the uneasy peace that occurred before everyone in glee managed to create a new kind of equilibrium. Strangely, this new balance in glee resulted in Rachel and Puck becoming inexplicably drawn to each other. Certainly, they had had several conversations since the truth about Quinn's baby came out; and whenever the thought of giving away his daughter grew too much to bear, Noah would go over to Rachel's house, where she would take his mind off things by performing songs from her favourite musicals (this is why Puck now knows both the lyrics and music to "Don't Rain on My Parade", "My Favourite Things", "Defying Gravity", "Tonight", "Seasons of Love", "Shall We Dance?", and "Maybe This Time").

Mostly though, Noah kept to himself. However, Rachel began to notice that he always sat close to her at lunch or during glee practice, and that, even if he wasn't right next to her, she could _feel_ his presence in the room. She also noticed that whenever she was practicing a duet, her eyes always strayed towards Puck and, somehow, her body always managed to orient itself in his direction. (Rachel has _no idea_ why this was the case. She didn't consider Puck's brand of animal magnetism - er, degree of physiological desirability - to be suitable for the role of romantic male lead in her life's story.) In addition, Puck seemed to be working harder and harder to excel in glee, and whenever he finished a performance for the group, he'd look immediately to Rachel, as though her opinion mattered to him the most.

After several weeks of this strange chemistry between them, Rachel couldn't take it anymore. And, not being the type of person to sit back and wait for, well... anything, she approached Puck after rehearsal one day.

"Excuse me, Noah, may I speak with you for a moment?"

"'Sup, Berry?" (Rachel had long since given up on getting him to call her by her first name. She had decided to consider "Berry" a cool nickname, just like "Puck", and let it go. Mostly).

"I have been wondering if you have been having any thoughts about our relationship."

"Uh... _what_ relationship?"

"Well, it cannot have escaped your attention that we seem to be strangely drawn to each other, yet we are not really that close, though I think you'll agree that we have a much better accord than we did prior to the revelation that you were the true father of Quinn's baby, and so I am wondering if you have any opinions about that."

"About me being the one who knocked up Quinn? Yeah, I'd say I have some opinions about that", Puck said. His twinkling green eyes belied the dry tone of his voice.

Sighing with frustration, Rachel exclaimed, "No, about the fact that you and I seem to have some unexplained connection, without any conscious action on either of our parts!"

"Oh. That. Well, I have seen you checking me out, not that anyone could blame you, because I am a _fine_ piece of ass."

Rachel counted to ten. Slowly. Then she said, "I have _not_ been checking you out, Noah! Stop being so crass. - "Your _face_ is crass, Berry." - If I have been paying more attention to you than usual, it is simply because _you_ have been making yourself more of a presence to _me_!"

"What? So all this is my doing?"

"Well, yes. Given all the rumours about your sexual prowess - "They're not rumours, Berry." - it is not unreasonable for me to assume that since you have been _so obvious_ in your attempts to get me to notice you, it means that you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with me. Again. So, I just wanted to clarify that this was, indeed, the case before proceeding."

Puck stared at Rachel for what seemed like an eternity. He realized that every time he thought he had a handle on her particular brand of crazy, she did something else to up the stakes. It was irritating, fascinating, and... well... kind of hot, the way she always managed to surprise him. (Also, Rachel was right - seriously, she might actually be kinda psychic like that Carrie chick in that freaky movie he and Finn watched when they were kids.) This is what makes him say, "Proceed how?"

And so it began.

Rachel decided that it was unnecessary for her and Noah to make a "big announcement" about their renewed romantic relationship. If they didn't before, why should they do so now? Besides, she kind of felt a little thrill at leaving the McKinley student body to figure it out on their own. It appealed to her dramatic sensibilities: sometimes, it was indeed better to "show, don't tell". Interestingly, she was learning that "show, don't tell" worked on boyfriends, too. Although she didn't quite understand Noah's irritation with how much she talked - the whole point of _living_ is to express one's self fully at all times isn't it? - she understood the need to broaden her horizons when it came to human communication, in order to strengthen her skills as an actress. So, she determined to _show_ Noah how she feels about him, not just to say it. To the casual observer, it would appear that she was a tease. To said casual observer, Rachel would exclaim, "I am most certainly _not_ a tease! I am simply letting my paramour know that my feelings for him are physical, as well as personal. I am interested in the _whole package _that is Noah Puckerman, and it is _very important_ that he realize this, lest he fall under the _erroneous_ assumption that I am not _fully invested_ in our relationship!" ("Whatever", the causal observer would reply.)

In the months that she and Noah have been together, Rachel has realized that he really, really, _really_ likes the short skirts she wears. (Not that she would _ever_ seriously consider changing _any_ aspect of herself for a boy, but it's nice to know that - despite what Kurt says - her style is appreciated.) So, whenever they meet for lunch in the cafeteria, she makes sure that Noah sits down first. She then stands oh-so-closely beside him, so that the hairs on his forearm brush the hem of her skirt, and lightly tickle the skin of her thigh. Once she is aware that _he _is aware of this - his eyes darken to a deep, hunter green - she slides in next to him, giving him her Bette Davis Eyes (which she has _not_ practiced in the mirror at home, _ever_), before calmly beginning to eat.

Rachel has also learned that Noah is fascinated with her hair. Perhaps it's because he doesn't have much of his own, or perhaps it's because she had once mentioned how difficult it was to wash the slushie out of it. Whatever the case, she is loathe to deny the object of her affection such a simple pleasure, so she makes sure he gets many opportunities to appreciate her thick, chestnut locks. Whenever they hug, she turns her head into his neck so that he has no choice but to inhale the scent of her shampoo (_Rosemary Mint_, by Aveda). And when they're rehearsing at glee, or in her bedroom (the sound-proofed walls make it the ideal setting for music practice), she will casually lean over his shoulder and use her hand to flip her hair from one side to the other, so that it cascades down his face and neck (the better for him to experience its softness, of course).

At other times, she'll simply stare at him when (she thinks) he's not looking. She'll take in the breadth of his shoulders, and the narrowness of his hips. She'll linger on the shape of his mouth, and the length of his fingers. She'll marvel at the definition of his muscles, and smile to herself because she knows what they feel like. When Noah finally catches her eye, she'll nibble slightly on her lower lip, and silently congratulate herself because she can practically _see_ the hitch in his breath.

Rachel thoroughly enjoys the "show" part of her relationship with Noah. Not only because she knows she's driving him f*cking crazy (despite having been with Noah for all this time, Rachel _still_ can't bring herself to swear. Noah ribs her about this mercilessly: "C'mon, Berry... how're you gonna talk dirty to me in bed if you can't even swear?"), but also because she is as turned on by her little game as he is. She loves the feeling of his skin against hers: a warm, tingling sensation that spreads throughout her entire body, and makes her feel as though she really _is _a star. The sheer desire she sometimes sees in his eyes makes her feel wanted in a way that she never has before: like, if Noah can't have her _righthissecond_, he's going to spontaneously combust. The feel of his body covering hers as he envelops her in a hug makes her feel delicate, protected... loved. For all her brash confidence, Rachel secretly worries that the reason nobody seems to love her (except her two gay dads, of course) is because she's just not worthy of being loved. This is why she wants to "wait and be sure" before she has sex, although what, exactly, she's waiting for, she doesn't know...

Truth be told, Rachel Berry wants to have sex with Noah Puckerman as much as he wants to have sex with her. So, when he turns to her after "Take the Lead" ends and says, in a too-casual, "I'm-a-studly-badass-so-I-don't-care-if-you-say-'yes'-or-'no'" voice, "Wanna come over tomorrow night? Mom and Rebecca are going to some lame mother-daughter thing down in Columbus this weekend, so we'll have the house to ourselves. I'll cook...", she agrees.

And so it begins.

* * *

_I can't take much more girl, I'm losing control_

Puck's plan for seducing Rachel looks something like this:

1) Cook dinner for Rachel.

2) Eat dinner with Rachel.

3) Take Rachel up to his room, where the lights will be low, the bed will be turned down (with freshly laundered sheets, of course), and "Sex on Fire" by Kings of Leon is playing softly in the background.

4) Use his best "sexy voice" (he likes to think of it as a cross between Johnny Depp and the lead singer of that rock band, Jericho... what's-his-name-again?) to get Rachel to have sex with him.

The first part of his plan goes smoothly. While it's true that he does tune out most of what Rachel says when she's rambling on about something or other (in truth, he finds the sound of her voice and the rush of her words soothing... he doesn't need to actually know what she's saying), he pays attention every now and then. He remembers her once saying something about how good food arouses the senses like no other stimuli. (It occurs to Puck that the only reason he remembered this was because Rachel used the word "arouse".) Luckily, Puck is quite a good cook, because his mom works so much, and there's only so much cereal a man can eat, you know? So, knowing that Rachel loves Italian food, Puck made her seafood risotto with _lots_ of oysters (he didn't know if they really were aphrodisiacs, but he figured that every little bit helped. Not that he _needed_ any help, of course.), and _cicale: _Italian lobster/prawn-like creatures, marinated in olive oil, bread crumbs, salt and lots of black pepper, before being grilled. Served with a perfectly chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio (much to Puck's surprise, Rachel is not opposed to having a drink every now and then: "It is very important to my future celebrity status to be comfortable socializing in situations in which alcohol is present."), he can tell by the way Rachel's eyes widen and her neck flushes as she takes her first bite, and by the way she licks the salty, spicy olive oil from her lips, that he's golden. Fucking _golden. _

After they've finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen ("Noah, we can't _possibly_ leave the kitchen in this state for your mother to take care of when she gets back. It would be _unbelievably_ rude and disrespectful!"), Puck takes his girl by the hand and leads her up to his room because, "There's this really great song that I've been thinking of using for a solo, but want I you to hear it first, babe." He opens the door, and gestures for Rachel to walk through first. As she registers the low lights, the inviting bed, the pulsating music - "And you, your sex is on fire/Consumed with what's to transpire" - he slides up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, and murmurs in her ear, "Wanna have sex, baby?" (Being short and to the point got Rachel to make out with him the very first time, so Puck figures he shouldn't mess with a good thing.) Rachel turns to face him, and the look in her eyes is so intense, he feels naked already: there's want, and there's need, but there's also vulnerability and insecurity. Puck wracks his brain, trying to come up with the words to let Rachel know that she doesn't have anything to be unsure about. He opens his mouth, but before he can make a sound, Rachel is there. Like, _totally there._ She's kissing him, and tonguing him, and running her hands all over his chest and back and neck. Puck's, uh, _response_ is immediate, and he can tell that Rachel feels it too, because she makes this little noise of surprise in the back of her throat, and he almost loses it right there. But, Puck is not a Sex God for nothing, so he ends the kiss, scoops Rachel up, and lays her gently on the bed before crawling in beside her. He's gonna do this right: he's gonna seduce his girlfriend with slow, tender, luxurious sex, showing her with his body all the things he can't express to her with words.

Funny thing about that, though... As Rachel slowly unbuttons her shirt, and Puck sees her nipples peeking out from behind the black lace of her bra, he blurts, "Oh my god, Rachel, you're so beautiful, you take my breath away!" (The _fuck_? Where did _that_ come from? Puck never says _anything_ during sex, other than shit like, "Oh yeah", and "That's it", and "Right there".) _Actual sentences_, things he _never _he could say to her, are pouring out of him, and he can't seem to control it.

Rachel allows him to remove her shirt and bra: "Jesus, Rach, your skin is so velvet and soft I never wanna stop touching you." (Shit. _Get it together, _man!)

She rises up on her knees, and slowly works her skirt down her thighs, before tossing it off the side of the bed: "Your body is a wonder. I love the shape of you, and I can't believe you're mine. All mine, all mine." (That's it, dude... don't let Rachel make you listen to John Mayer. _Ever again._)

Rachel pulls off his shirt, and undoes the button of his jeans: "Please, please, baby, just touch me. Touch me wherever you want. I'll do anything for you." (Ho-_ly_ shit. This is _not_ how this was supposed to go, Puckerman! What's _wrong_ with you?)

She gets a wicked gleam in her eye and says, "Anything?" in _the_ sexiest voice he's ever heard (seriously, when this is over, he's gonna ask her for pointers), Puck knows he's done for. She pushes him back on the bed, and then climbs on top of him. She starts kissing him all over his face, then begins to work her way down his torso, leaving the scent of mint and rosemary to invade his nostrils (_god_, how he loves that smell). All he can say is, "My Rachel, my Rachel, my Rachel", over and over.

Rachel then begins doing this _amazing_ swirly thing around his belly button with her tongue, while her fingers slowly pull down his zipper, and find their way inside his boxers. The heat from her hand as it wraps around his dick makes him writhe on the bed and buck his hips in delicious agony. As she begins stroking him, "My Rachel" becomes "My beautiful Rachel, my beautiful Rachel". Puck takes a moment to register that he has been calling her by her first name, but then she uses her fingernails to lightly tickle his balls and the moment's gone. He quickly decides that he is wearing _way_ too many clothes, and that he has to do something about it _rightthissecond_. So, he reaches down to start pushing off his jeans and underwear, and the angle of his body makes Rachel's hand tighten around him, and her fingers dig deeper into his balls, and it feels _so, soooo good_, and

Oh no.

This can't be happening.

This _is not_ happening.

Oh nonononono.

No.

(C'mon, Puckerman! Think of _anything_ other than where your girlfriend's hand is right now: football/math class/_any_ class/Coach Sylvester/Coach Tanaka/Coach Sylvester _fucking_ Coach Tanaka/dead kittens/dead mailmen...)

Shit.

...

As Rachel pads to the bathroom to wash off her hands, she smirks to herself and thinks, "'They're not rumours'? Your _face_ is a rumour, Puckerman."

* * *

To Be Continued...


	2. I, I, I, I want you baby

TITLE: The Seduction

DISCLAIMERS AND OTHER STUFF: See Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Squeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!_ Reviews! And alerts! And favourites! Oh my!

Thank you _**so much**_, everyone! You have no idea how much this makes my day. I hope this next installment lives up to your expectations. (Props to **ophelia22**, whose "Disney Laced Profanity" got me past my writer's block. If you haven't read it yet, go do so. Now.)

EDIT NOTE (Dec. 22): I just realized that I uploaded the wrong version of Ch. 2. (Whoops!) This is the correct one.

* * *

**Chapter 2: **_**I, I, I, I want you baby**_

Puck is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He is trying to figure out What. The. _Fuck._ Just. Happened. One part of his brain tries to convince the other parts that he has somehow got caught up in one of those freaky situations where two people suddenly switch bodies, just like in the movies... how else to explain that he just "Finn-Hudsonned" all over his girlfriend? The other parts of his brain aren't buying it, though: "Face it, Puckerman... you lost control because that's what Rachel does to you. She's like no other girl you've known, or will probably ever know. She sees right through your façade like _no one_ else does, she calls you on your shit, she knows your worst secrets, and she believes in you anyway. If there's one person in the _whole world_ who you could lose yourself like that with, it's her. So, really, what you _should_ be trying to figure out is, is that so terrible?"

And it's in that moment that Noah Puckerman realizes he's in love with Rachel Berry. Like, totally, head-over-heels, crazy-in-love.

This is why, when she returns from the bathroom with her chestnut hair mussed, her lips swollen and red, and wearing nothing but her black lace bikini panties, Puck doesn't try to have sex with her again. Instead, he opens his arms to her and, in a voice so soft he almost doesn't recognize it as his own, says, "C'mere, baby". As she crawls into his embrace, sighing contentedly, Puck whispers, "This isn't how I'd wanted things to go tonight".

"I know", replies Rachel. "However, I don't care. I fully appreciate all the thought and effort you _clearly_ put into making this evening special for the both of us."

"Still, I'll make it up to you, babe. I promise."

Rachel doesn't say anything (much to his surprise), but her delighted little smile is all the response Puck needs. He leans back against the headboard and falls asleep with his girl in his arms.

* * *

_Keeps me guessing, with a promise_

Puck's plan for "making it up" to Rachel looks something like this:

1) Romance Rachel.

2) Tease Rachel.

3) Get Rachel back up to his room, where the lights will be low, the bed will be turned down, and the Acafellas' version of "I Wanna Sex U Up" is playing softly in the background.

4) Use his "sexy voice" to get Rachel to have sex with him.

Since Puck isn't feeling all that sure of himself - though he'd beat the crap out of anyone who suggested otherwise - he figures it's a good idea not to leave _everything_ to chance: even if Parts 1 and 2 of his plan don't work, he knows that Parts 3 and 4 will.

Indeed, it turns out that Part 1 isn't as easy to execute as he thought it would be. Puck doesn't know why, but it actually comes as a shock to him that, despite the number of women he has been with, he doesn't have a clue about how to do the romance thing. He would normally talk to Finn about something like this, but their friendship has only just started feeling "normal" again, and Puck doesn't want to risk that by asking Finn for advice on how to woo the girl he once majorly crushed on. ("Woo"? Fuck. He needs to stop hanging around Hummel so much. On second thought...)

"Yo, Hummel! Wait up!", Puck calls as he's leaving glee practice one afternoon.

Kurt pauses outside the choir room door, turns towards Puck, raises one eyebrow, and says, "How may I help you, Mr. Puckerman?"

Puck rolls his eyes and demands, "God, do you have to be so... so... _imperious_ all the damn time?"

Kurt's eyes widen in surprise before he says, "'Imperious'? My, my... it appears that our Ms. Berry is influencing your vocabulary, along with your overall disposition. I approve."

"Yeah, whatever. I was wondering if you would help me with something." When Kurt remains silent, Puck continues, "I was wondering if you could help me figure out how to... how to..." (Jesus, is he _blushing_? Noah Puckerman Does. Not. Blush.) "... howtoromanceRachelBerry", he finishes in a rush.

If Kurt's eyes were wide before, they are positively _Bambi_-like now. "How to romance Rachel Berry?", he repeats, just to make sure he has heard correctly.

"Yeah", Puck mumbles, looking down at the ground.

"I rather thought you would already know how to do that, given that the two of you have been dating for several months now."

"Yeah, well, I've used up all the goodies in Puckerman's Bag o' Sexy Tricks, so I'm looking for something new", Puck snarks back.

"Your lashing out at me is _fantastically_ compelling and inappropriate. Which can only mean one thing: you're feeling vulnerable. And, if you're feeling vulnerable about Rachel Berry, it means... it means... Oh." As realization dawns on Kurt's face, he smiles a smile of which the Cheshire Cat himself would be proud, links his arm through Puck's, and says, "Walk with me." Puck is so thunderstruck by how quickly Kurt figured him out that the fact that he's walking down the hall _arm-in-arm with Kurt fucking Hummel_ doesn't immediately register in his brain. (When it eventually does, he decides he doesn't care. Puck's a stud: he could wear _a dress_ to school, and everyone would think it was cool. Besides, Kurt had some _awesome_ ideas.)

When Puck sees Rachel at school the next day, she's hurrying down the hall, one arm laden down with books and folders, other dragging her pink trolley suitcase behind her. Even though she no longer gets slushied (and, therefore, no longer needs to bring several changes of clothes to school), Rachel can't bring herself to get rid of the bag. She thinks of it as a symbol of her perseverance: no matter how hard other people tried to make her stop being herself, she never gave into the pressure. ("Jeez, Berry, melodramatic much?" "I'm sorry, Noah, but have you _met_ me?" It's at times like this that Puck realizes just how much of an influence he's had on her. He's not sure that's a good thing.)

"Hey babe", he says to her, leaning in for a quick kiss. "What's the hurry?"

"Oh, Noah, I'm so sorry that I don't have time more to speak with you at the moment, but I promised Mr. Schue I would bring him some reading material and other suggestions for glee club, because even though we won at Sectionals we _cannot_ afford to rest on our laurels. Vocal Adrenaline are _exceptionally_ talented, and so we have to be strategic in how we construct our performances for Regionals. Except, I'm already potentially tardy this morning because my car wouldn't start properly and I really need to give these books to Mr. Schue before class because there simply isn't enough room to keep them in my locker until glee, but I don't have time to go and _find_ Mr. Schue, go _back _to my locker to switch out the books I need from my bag, and _then_ go to class. I don't want to be late." she finishes on a breath.

Unbelievably, Puck has been paying attention to everything she said. And so he replies, "Well, why don't I go to your locker for you? You tell me what books you need, and I'll bring them to class." Rachel's response is one of her blinding, mega-watt smiles (seriously, he's gonna have to start wearing shades whenever he's around her). Then she teases, "You are actually going to come to class? I'm flabbergasted!", before hurrying off again.

"Yeah, well, your _face_ is flabbergasted", Puck mutters to her retreating body.

The truth is, Puck needs to get ahold of Rachel's trolley bag, and if going to class is the only way to get it, then that's what he'll do. He makes it through the door just in time, ignores his teacher's look of absolute shock, and sits down next to Rachel. He watches her closely as she reaches over to take her bag from him. She opens it, and when she notices the bouquet of white roses inside, the blush on her cheeks matches the pink at the centre of each flower perfectly. However, the look on her face, tells him that, later on, she'll be addressing the issue of how, exactly, he got into her bag. (She has never given him the combination.) Puck simply grins at her, as if to say, "What? You know I'm a badass."

The next phase of _Operation: Romance Rachel_ takes place a couple days later. Puck is waiting for Rachel by her locker, so that they can walk to glee practice together. (What? It's not like he's whipped, or anything. Shut the fuck up!) When she arrives, he pulls her into a hug, then presses her back against her locker and kisses the breath right out of her.

"Get a room!", Mercedes calls out as she walks by.

"Jealous, 'Cedes? I know you totally wanna tap this.", Puck replies.

"In your dreams, White boy!"

Puck laughs and turns back to Rachel, who is only just now recovering from his kiss. (Is he the man, _or what_?). "Mercedes is right, you know.", Rachel says.

(Wha-? Huh?)

"It really isn't appropriate for us to flaunt our relationship in front of the whole student body like that. It makes us appear as though we think we're better than others, and I know from experience how such appearances - even though _completely_ unintentional - can cause resentment to build up in our peers, thus giving them the misguided impression that it is their responsibility to try to bring us back down to their level."

"But, Berry, we're a couple of _hot_ student bodies. We _are _better than the others.", Puck says. He's only joking, of course. (Sort of.)

Rachel just sighs and shakes her head, before turning to open her locker. When she does, she finds her iPod sitting on the shelf, with a pink bow affixed to it. Puck doesn't offer any explanation when she turns back to him with curiosity in her eyes, just gestures for her to turn it on. She does, and discovers that there's a new playlist on it. Entitled "Songs for Rachel, by Puck", it contains covers of some of her favourite love songs, all sung by Puck as he accompanies himself on his guitar. As she scrolls through the list, she sees "Sweet Caroline" (Neil Diamond), "All I Want Is You" (U2), "Someone to Watch Over Me" (from _Oh, Kay!_), "Angel Eyes" (Jeff Healey), "One Hand, One Heart" (from _West Side Story_), and "The Nearness of You" (Hoagy Carmichael).

"So, what do you think, babe?"

Rachel doesn't say anything (much to his surprise), just puts her iPod back in her locker and closes the door. She turns to him, face expressionless. Puck's stomach drops as he starts to worry that maybe he went too far, that maybe Rachel thinks the playlist is lame, and that maybe she's now wondering what the hell she's doing with a total weak-assed, cheese-tastic pussy-man like him.

It happens so quickly, he doesn't immediately register what's going.

One second, he's looking down at Rachel.

The next second, he's slammed against the lockers (for a midget, she's _wicked strong_), and Rachel has both her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms locked around his neck, her fingers twisted in his strip of hair, and her tongue down his throat.

When he finally comes up for air, he asks, "Uh... what happened to it being inappropriate to flaunt our relationship in front of the entire student body?"

"Be quiet, Noah.", Rachel commands, before shoving her tongue down his throat again.

(Oh, yeah. He is _so_ the man.)

* * *

_I know we can come together_

Rachel knows that she must never, ever, _ever_ mention the events that transpired when she and Noah attempted to have sex for the first time, _especially_ not to him. Judging by the look of _complete and utter_ mortification on his face after he ejaculated all over her hands, she knows that he would prefer to pretend that it had never happened. The problem is, Rachel _can't _pretend it never happened: seeing how easily she drove Noah over the edge has made her ridiculously, unbelievably, _fist-bitingly_ horny. (All. The. Time.) The fact that Noah has been really delivering on his promise to "make it up" to her is not helping. _At all._

She knew that Noah could be sweet. But, she'd had no idea just _how_ sweet until several days ago. The roses in her trolley bag, the love songs on her iPod... all of it is making her see Noah in a new light. And she likes what she sees: a young man who, while certainly flawed - she can practically _hear_ him say, "Your _face_ is flawed, Berry." - has an incredible capacity to love and be loved. Rachel is aware of the old adage about how the more you get to know someone, the more attractive they become to you. She never fully believed it, though... Case in point, Jacob Ben Israel: the more she (unfortunately) gets to know him, the _less_ attractive he becomes to her. Noah, on the other hand, has progressed quickly from "sweet" and "good-looking" to...

Hot.

Really, _really_ hot.

And the amazing annoying thing about it is that he knows it. And what's even better worse is that he's making sure she knows it, too. Within the last few days, Rachel has realized that Noah has gone from romancing her to teasing her. (She'd complain that it's _completely unfair_, except that she knows he's only giving her back what she gave to him. Plus, did she mention that it's really hot?)

First, there are the texts:

**10:43 am**: _U look hot 2day_

Rachel rolls her eyes, but blushes anyway, before turning her attention back to her History teacher.

**11:26 am:** _I wanna slide my hands under ur skirt_

She gasps (loudly), and is subsequently glad she's in the cafeteria, where the sound she just made is drowned out by the noise of the other students eating, laughing, and talking.

**2:34 pm:** _U make me so hard, baby. Wanna come feel?_

This one arrived just as she was coming out of the bathroom stall. Never before had she been so grateful for the cold water tap as she held her hands under it. For five minutes. Straight.

Then, there is the touching:

Rachel should have known that there was _no way_ she could out-tease Noah Puckerman. Not only does he have the advantage of size (really, all he had to do was lean over her and she started to overheat), but he also has the advantage of _years_ of practice. For example, sometimes, when he passes her in the hall, he'll briefly grab her hand and circle her palm with his thumb. The rough, callused pad causes shivers to run all up and down her arm. At other times, while sitting next to her in glee, he'll casually reach through the opening at the back of her chair, and idly trail his fingers across her lower back. When Mr. Schue asks her if she's feeling alright, because her face "is awfully red", she doesn't have to look at Noah to know that he is smirking for all he is worth. She can _feel _it.

It is when they were alone, though, that Noah _really_ ups his game. If they are standing at the sink washing the dishes after supper, he will move as though reaching for the detergent, only to cup her breast and rub his thumb over her nipple before returning to his task. (He left Rachel to explain to her fathers how one of their favourite mugs got such an enormous chip in it.) If they happen to be on the couch together, and she happens to be sitting between his legs, he will shift so that she can feel the bulge of his penis pressing against the soft flesh of her behind.

If she thinks all this is driving her f*cking crazy (she _still_ can't bring herself to swear), it is _nothing_ compared to what happens the first time she goes to watch Noah at basketball practice.

Although Rachel still doesn't understand the appeal of competitive sports - "It's just all so _unnecessarily aggressive_, Noah!" - she knows that it is important for people in romantic relationships to show support for their partner's interests. So, she dutifully settles herself in the bleachers, along with the other players' friends and girlfriends (and boyfriends, as Kurt was now dating a junior on the team). She smiles when she sees Noah and Finn horsing around on the sidelines: it makes her so happy that "her boys" seem to be getting along again. When Noah catches her eye, she gives him a little wave before turning to engage Kurt in conversation.

Once the practice starts, however, Rachel discovers that she can't keep her eyes off her boyfriend. She had seen him play sports before, of course, but his football uniform wasn't as... revealing as his current attire is. The sleeveless McKinley High basketball jersey allows her to watch the ripple of his muscles every time he dribbles the ball, or raises his arms to take a shot. His basketball shorts make visible _every muscle in his thigh_, and showcase his long, lean calves. Combined with the fact that he is all sweaty, and breathing hard, and... "Rachel, sweetie, you're drooling", Kurt whispers to her.

By the time practice is over, and Noah is able to catch her eye again, Rachel knows exactly when he registers how... _affected_ she is by his physical display. He gets his "I'm the man" smirk on his face and slowly pulls off his jersey, before taking long, slow gulps from his water bottle, so that she can watch the cords in his throat pulse, and the hard muscles of his stomach clench, as he swallows the liquid down.

At that precise moment, Rachel has had enough. She _wants_ Noah Puckerman, and _nothing_ is going to stop her from having him.

To ensure that he receives the message loud and clear, Rachel draws upon her inner exhibitionist - a _true_ actress can take on _any_ role, at _any_ time - and glances around. When it is apparent that no one else is paying any attention to them - they are all distracted by Coach Tanaka yelling at the team about how much they SUCK! - Rachel opens her knees just wide enough so that Noah can see her pink lace panties. Then, she coyly slips one hand into the waistband of her skirt. Once she is satisfied that Noah know _exactly _where her fingers are, and _exactly_ what they're doing there (his eyes widen before he swallows... hard.), she withdraws her hand and blows him a kiss, before primly standing up and walking out of the gym.

She waits for him at his locker. To say that he is aroused when he finds her there would be the understatement of the year. He kisses her with such ferocity, she thinks she might have to go for days without any feeling in her lips. (Which would be a shame, given what she has planned for the weekend.) When they break apart, she pants, "See you tonight?"

"Can't, babe. Mom wants me to attend Shabbat dinner at Rabbi Goldstein's tonight. You know there's no way I can get out of that."

"Oh," Rachel said, pouting. "How about tomorrow? I'm free all day."

"Shit. You heard how Coach went off on us in there?" Rachel nods. "Well, he decided that we're gonna do conditioning and drills all day tomorrow, so that maybe we'll stop 'Sucking worse than my 80-year-old grandma's 50-year-old Hoover'."

Rachel sighs, and sticks out her lower lip even further. Grinning wolfishly, Puck leans in and growls, "But, I can be yours tomorrow night, since it's _so obvious _youwant me bad."

She can't even bring herself to rise to the bait, because it is so very, _very _true. Instead, she looks up at Noah through heavy-lidded eyes and says,

"You have _no idea._ Come over tomorrow night if you want to find out." (Her slight emphasis on the word "come" is purely accidental. Really.)

* * *

_But the question is, will we ever ever? _

Puck finds himself on Rachel's doorstep early on Saturday evening. He had wanted to show up straight after practice, but when he called Rachel to tell her so, she told him to go home and take a nap first: "I need you to be well-rested and refreshed before I entertain you this evening, Noah." Puck didn't know exactly what she meant by "entertain", but if the way she had kissed him after practice yesterday was any indication, Puck was _so _gonna get laid tonight. Sure, they're at Rachel's instead of at his place, but Parts 3 and 4 of his plan don't need to happen in his room. Any secluded area will do.

He opens Rachel's front door and walks in, knowing that her fathers were at an ACLU conference for the weekend. (God, he loved it when parents were so accidentally respectful of their kids' sexual needs!) He calls out her name, but doesn't get a response. Climbing the stairs two at a time (it's not like he was in a hurry, or anything. Noah Puckerman _does not_ hurry for sex: _sex_ hurries for Noah Puckerman.), he walks down the hall to her bedroom. He twists the doorknob, only to find it locked. Furrowing his brow, he knocks twice and calls out, "Rach? Are you in there, babe?" The sight that greets him when Rachel opens the door sends the blood rushing from his head to his dick so fast, he nearly passes out. (Nearly.)

This? Right here? Is one of the things Puck loves most about Rachel: to her, _every moment_ is an opportunity for theatre. Who else would have thought to recreate a high-end spa in her bedroom? Complete with monogrammed towels? And _outfits_?

Puck leans against the doorframe because he wants to strike a sexy pose (and not because he has literally just gone weak in the knees. Noah Puckerman's kneesare made of_ steel._). As his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he takes in the details of his surroundings: there are candles everywhere, giving off a soft, jasmine scent. The bed is made up with ivory satin sheets, topped by a deep pink duvet cover. (It's Hummel's fault that Puck even knows what a duvet cover _is_.) On her bedside table stand several bottles of oil, and Puck swallows hard as he thought of all the uses he can put them to. He can hear the sound of rushing water coming from Rachel's bathroom, and realizes it means that she has turned on her Jacuzzi bathtub. Over the hum of the jets, he can just make out Sade's "Lover's Rock" playing softly in the background. And Rachel... _Fuck._

Rachel is wearing a white lace strapless bra, a white lace thong, and fluffy white, open-toed slippers with a small heel. On top of that is a sheer white robe, the belt of which is tied loosely around her tiny waist. "Good evening, Noah", she says in a sexy voice (which is _way_ better than his). "Welcome to _Puckleberry_, the only luxury spa and massage parlour where _all_ your needs will be met."

Unable to speak (because of all the blood pooled elsewhere in his body), Puck just stand there stupidly as Rachel glides toward him. She takes his hand and draws him into the room, before closing the door behind them. She continues, "I will be your hostess this evening. Please allow me to soothe all of your sore and aching" - she glances down at the _very obvious_ bulge in his pants - "... muscles." Rachel guides Puck to the edge of her bed, and sits him down. When she leans forward to lift his arms over his head so that she can remove his shirt, her robe gapes a little wider and he can see that the bra she is wearing has a _front closure_. All he has to do is reach forward just a little bit and...

She steps away, gesturing for him to stand up. (_Fuck_. She's going to make this hard - uh, hard_er_ - isn't she...) Rachel steps forward again, and begins to slowly undo his belt. When Puck reaches down to do it himself - and _quickly_ - she says, "Oh no, Noah. You are not to lift a finger. Let me take care of everything for you." _Finally_ getting his belt undone, Rachel begins working on his pants. As she slowly pulls them down (taking his boxers along for the ride), she runs her hands along the hard planes of his thighs. Her touch is so soft, yet so hot, Puck's glad he took a nap earlier, as requested. It's gonna take _every ounce_ of energy he has to last through the night. And, by _god_, he's gonna last.

Once he's naked, Rachel steps back again, and looks him up and down as though admiring her handiwork. She lingers on his erection for a moment, then looks him dead in the eye and slowly licks her lips. (_Jesus._) Picking up one of the monogrammed towels, Rachel hold out her hand and says, "Come with me". She leads him into the bathroom, where more candles are lit, and motions for him to get into the tub. Taking off her robe, Rachel slips in behind him, and gently begins to massage his head. The combination of her fingers dancing along his shaved scalp, the bubbles colliding furiously around his dick, and the material of her bra lightly scratching his back have Puck thrusting his hips under the water. Just when he thinks he'll explode if he doesn't turn around and kiss her, Rachel runs her fingers through his hair once more, and stands up. As she steps out of the tub, the candlelight reflects off the water droplets clinging to her skin, making her seem like she is on fire. (Which, coincidentally, is _exactly_ how Puck feels.) Getting out of the tub himself, he moves in to kiss her, only to be stopped by her outstretched palm. Puck pouts. He _actually fucking pouts_, because he's so frustrated by not being able to touch his girl. His frustration disappears quickly though, as Rachel begins towelling her body dry, and then his, taking extra care with his junk.

When they are back in the bedroom, Rachel bends over to pick up one of the bottles of oil (while Puck admires her round, firm ass). She pours a little bit into her hand and begins rubbing it _all over her body_. (Oh, _fuuuuuuck._) When she is finished, she says, "It's time for your massage, Noah. Please lie on the bed, face down." Puck does as he is told (he has no problem following _some_ rules), and Rachel climbs on top of him, straddling his lower back. When she starts massaging his shoulders, he groans with pleasure. As he gets used to the rhythm of her hands against his skin, the sensation changes. Rachel is still rubbing his back, but it doesn't feel like she's using her hands anymore. It feels like... like...

Oh. My. _God._

Is she using her boobs? Is Rachel Berry _fucking_ giving him a _fucking_ massage with her _fucking_ boobs?! Puck turns his head over his shoulder and, sure enough, Rachel has removed her bra (_damn... _he'd been hoping to do that himself) and is laying flat against him, rubbing her chest all over his back. When she looks up and catches his eye, she grins wickedly and places her hands on either side of his body, before running her legs up, down, under, over, and between his.

At that precise moment, Puck has had enough. He _wants_ Rachel Berry, and _nothing_ is going to stop him from having her.

In one fluid movement (Puck had been on the wrestling team his freshman year. He quit because he only liked to get into those positions with girls, not dudes.), Puck rolls over and flips Rachel on her back. "You know, Berry" he says, leaning over her. "My muscles are, like, _totally_ soothed and un-sore now. I've got a different kind of ache, though. Help me take care of it?" Rachel smiles devilishly in response, so Puck swoops down and crushes her mouth with his. He uses his tongue to pry her lips open, before plundering her mouth. As he runs his hand up her ribcage and over to her breast, where he begins to tease her nipple, she whimpers in anticipation. But Puck wants more... he wants to _hear_ her. Speechless Rachel just isn't Rachel at all.

"Talk to me, baby", he growls. "Let me hear you."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Anything. Tell me how you feel. Do you like what I'm doing? Do you want something different? Tell me. Talk _dirty_ to me."

"Oh. Um. Alright... Oh, yes, Noah, please continue to stimulate my breast. I especially enjoy it when you apply pressure to the nipple and the surrounding aureole; it creates a sensation that I suspect is not unlike receiving a mild electric shock. And, yes, please continue to French kiss me - do the French _really_ kiss like that, I wonder? - The feeling of our taste buds rubbing against each other is extremely pleasant, which is rather surprising, don't you think, given that they are designed for _taste_, not _touch_. Also... What?"

Puck is staring at Rachel with a look of total disbelief on his face. He actually hasn't been kissing or touching her for several minutes, because he is so stunned by what she's saying. As he tries to figure out how to respond, he knows that he needs to tread very carefully. Despite the show she is putting on for him tonight, Rachel is very insecure about her lack of sexual experience, especially when compared to the vastness of his. So, in the most gentle, non-judgmental tone he can muster, he says, "Rach, you're using your brain too much. Dirty talk isn't about the brain, it's about the body. It's raw, pure, instinctual. Don't think, okay? Just feel." He can tell by the look in her eyes that she's embarrassed for doing it "wrong", so he leans into her and lets his lips hover just above hers. "Just feel", he whispers again before kissing her softly. She's tentative at first, but soon she is kissing him with the same intensity she did That Night in His Room Which Shall Not Be Mentioned _Ever Again_, and he knows that _it is on_.

Puck deepens the kiss, opening his mouth so that Rachel's... taste buds... can be reintroduced to his. At the same time, he nudges her legs apart so that he rests between them. He can feel the heat emanating from her, and decides that he needs to know _exactly_ how he is making her feel. So, he removes his lips from hers and whispers "Talk to me, baby", before taking her left nipple in his mouth. Rachel is silent for a moment, then a soft, low rumbling starts deep in her throat. Puck increases the pressure on Rachel's nipple, and the rumbling in her throat grows louder and more intense, until,

"Oh, yes", she breathes. "Oh, yes, Puck. Lick me. Taste me. Take me." (Now, _that's_ more like it.) The fact that she calls him "Puck" and not "Noah" makes him _so hard_, he actually sees stars (gold ones). He moves over to her other breast for a moment - "Oh, god, Puck. Don't stop. Please don't stop." - before kissing her along her torso. "What are you doing?" Rachel asks. "Why have you stopped kissing my breast?" Puck looks back up at her with fire in his eyes and says, "I'm gonna make you scream my name." He continues kissing a trail down her stomach, until he reaches the waistband of her thong. It's so flimsy, all it take is a sharp twist of his wrist for it to come off in his hands. The sight of Rachel lying naked, thighs spread for_ him_, makes him want to weep from desire. But, Puck's a stud, and studs don't weep. So instead, he presses his face into the downy hair between her legs and takes a long, slow, lick. Rachel gasps and bucks on the bed, clenching the sheets between her tiny fists as she cries out, "Oh my _fucking god_!" Then... "Hey, I swore!", she exclaims proudly. Puck chuckles with affection, and says wryly, "Yes, you did, Berry. Congratulations on joining the land of the normal." Then he licks her again. And again. And again.

By this time, semen has started to run down his dick, but he doesn't care. He knows he's _nowhere_ close to coming (this time), just like he knows that Rachel is _very_ close. He wants to make her do it so, as she thrashes around on the bed above him, whispering "Oh, Puck ...god... oh, Puck ...god..." over and over (See? Even _she_ equates him with a god.), he licks her faster and faster, before taking her clit into his mouth (because, of course, he knows _exactly_ where to find it), and sucking as though his life depends on it (actually, it probably does, because Puck is _sure_ that he would die without sex. If Rachel only knew how close she came to killing him by making him wait for so long...). Oh my _god_ she tastes _so good_. Seriously, she actually tastes like berries down there (and how cool is that?). Puck makes a mental note to ask her how she managed it, after they've finished having sex. Which is still a long, long, long, _long_ way away.

Rachel is making a constant "_unf-unf-unf-unf_" sound now, which Puck knows means she is right at the edge. To help her over it (he is nothing if not generous), he inserts a finger into her tight, wet, heat. He is so hard now, he uses his other hand to begin stroking himself. (There's no reason why he can't start getting ready for the big finish, right?) Rachel is literally lifting herself off the bed, so Puck inserts another finger, and resumes licking her. Incredibly, her legs spread even wider, and Puck takes a moment to mentally thank her two gay dads for giving her all those dance lessons. Then he realizes how _seriously messed_ it is to be thinking of his girlfriend's gay fathers as he finger-fucks her, so he inserts a third finger and gently grazes her clit with his teeth.

That does it. Rachel screams his name - "_**Puuuuuuuuuuck!"**_ - throw her arms wide as she rides the wave of her first orgasm, and knocks over two of the candles on the bedside table.

Which then knocks over the bottles of oil.

Which promptly catch fire, setting the table and the edge of the bed frame ablaze, and nearly singeing off the hairs on Puck's head.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT SHIT SHIT _NOT THE 'HAWK!_", he yells, as he scrambles backwards off the bed. He's halfway across the room (he has _no idea_ how he got there, seriously), before he realizes that Rachel has whipped out a small fire extinguisher from beneath her bed (because, _of course_, she is prepared for anything and everything), and is covering the table and bed frame in thick, white foam. As she puts out the last of the flames, Puck smirks and says, "You know, Berry... when I said that you made me want to light myself on fire, I didn't mean it literally".

"Fuck you", Rachel replies, smiling.

"Oh, _believe me_, babe, you will."

("Just not tonight", Puck sighs to himself.)

* * *

To be continued...


	3. Sleep with me tonight

TITLE: The Seduction

DISCLAIMERS AND OTHER STUFF: See Chapter 1; for Chapter 3, "At Last" belongs to Mack Gordon and Harry Warren (songwriters), and Etta James ('cause she sings it best).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is it, guys. The end. (For now. I have other Puckleberry stories in mind, but it'll take a while for me to flesh them out.) Thanks again for all the reviews, alerts and favourites - they made writing this story all the more enjoyable. Merry Christmas!

* * *

**Chapter 3: **_**Sleep with me tonight**_

Rachel sends Puck downstairs to get a bucket and a sponge, so that she can clean up the foam from the fire extinguisher. He does so without bothering to put any clothes on: "Why should I, babe? Your dads aren't home, and you _know_ you love to admire my hot bod", he says, as he struts out the door. Rachel stares at his behind the entire time.

While he's gone, she walks around her bedroom turning on lights, and blowing out candles. No need to tempt fate by keeping them lit, after all. She then heads into her bathroom to blow out the candles in there. As she reaches over to switch off the Jacuzzi jets (feeling a momentary twinge of guilt for leaving them on and wasting energy), her knees give way and she collapses on the edge of the tub. She is coming down from not one, but two adrenaline rushes, and her body is drained. After a few minutes of congratulating herself for her quick thinking and ability to keep calm in a crisis - unlike _some_ well-muscled, so-called studly, Mohawked people she knows - her mind turns to the other event that has left her so physically exhausted. She just had sex, if only sort of. (There _was_ vaginal penetration of a kind, so Rachel classifies it as "sex", and not as "making out".) She just had sort of-sex with _Noah Puckerman_. Her _boyfriend_. If someone had told her six months ago that this would happen, she would have strongly urged them to seek professional evaluation of the state of their mental health. But now...

Now, the thought of sex with Noah seems like the most natural and reasonable thing in the world. She can still feel a warm, tingling sensation between her legs, where Noah kissed her so intimately and set every nerve in her body ablaze. She reflects on the experience (her first sexual encounter, is after all, rich material from which to draw upon when she matures from portraying stunning young ingenues to alluring women of the world): what it was like when her brain shut down, and all she could do was feel; the sound of Noah's moans as he sated his needs with _her_ body; the exhilaration of being pleasured so much it hurt in the best possible way; how it felt to give control over to someone else so wholly and completely...

It's in that moment that Rachel Berry realizes she's in love with Noah Puckerman. Like, totally, head-over-heels, crazy-in-love.

The realization literally makes her freeze where she sits, which is how Noah finds her when he returns with the cleaning supplies.

"What's wrong, Rach?", he asks, voice laced with concern. "Did I hurt you?"

Rachel looks up at him and starts to cry (for real, not on demand). Before Noah can say anything, though, she wipes the tears from her face, lets out a shaky laugh, and goes to wrap him in her arms.

"Nothing's wrong, Noah. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. In fact, you made me feel so incredible and amazing, I don't have the words to describe it."

Looking down at her with one eyebrow raised, he replies, "_You_? Don't have words? Mark your calendars, everybody! It's a miracle!"

Rachel gently knees him in the groin, reminding him not to make fun of her when he's in such a vulnerable position. He gets the message and puts on his "serious face". Then she says, "It's just that I'm so... _overwhelmed_ by everything. The kissing, and the touching, and the orgasming, and the putting-out-of-raging-fires. I'm just..."

"Overwhelmed", Noah repeats. Then, softly pressing his lips to her hair he says, "I get it. Me, too."

Sighing, Rachel looks up at him and says, "Come to bed? We can clean up everything in the morning."

Waggling his eyebrows in (what he thinks is) a suggestive manner, Noah drawls, "You wanna try again, baby?"

"No, I just... I just want to go to bed with you."

So together, they put out the rest of the candles, turn off all the lights, and climb into Rachel's bed. They fall asleep with arms and legs intertwined, fingers interlaced.

* * *

_I remain a gentle man_

In the days following Rachel's first real sexual encounter at the _extremely talented_ hands - and tongue - of Noah Puckerman, the level of her horniness increases to incalculable heights. She thinks that she may very well be hornier than Noah.

"No _fucking_ way, Berry", he tells her when she casually informs him of this. "_No one_ is hornier than me."

"Yes fucking way", she replies. She has become more at ease with swearing casually, a fact which Noah - on more than one occasion - has told her he finds incredibly hot. ("Why do you think I keep doing it?", is her coy response.)

"Wanna bet?", Noah asks, in his best "I'm-Noah-Puckerman-and-_the_-baddest-of-badasses" voice.

"That depends. What are the terms?"

Noah grins like a shark. "We're gonna compete to see who can drive the other crazier. We're gonna make sexual innuendoes, and flirt like crazy. We're gonna have oral sex and manual sex... maybe even at the same time. No fucking, though, because this is about teasing, and wanting, and needing, and begging. Whoever makes the other call out their name first, wins."

"And what does winner get?"

"The winner gets the loser to do _anything_ he" - "Or she", Rachel interrupts - "wants."

"Fine. I accept your terms. I already know what I'm going to get you to do", Rachel replies in her best "I-am-Rachel-Berry-and-I-get-everything-I-want" voice.

"Oh, _please_", Noah snorts. "I'm _so_ gonna kick your ass, Berry. You're playing on _my_ turf now. I was _built_ for this."

And so it begins.

They spend the next week touching, teasing, kissing, nibbling, tickling, whispering sweet nothings and _very dirty_ somethings, biting, tonguing, rubbing, giggling, stroking, winking, fondling, smiling, licking, groping and grabbing each other. At school, they do it in hallways, in classrooms (only the empty ones, of course, because not even the extremely talented hands and tongue of Noah Puckerman can get Rachel Berry to jeopardize her stellar academic record), in the bathrooms, at lunch, at glee practice, in the janitors' closets (most of which are unused, because Principal Figgins had to cut the cleaning budget. Again.). At home, they're in bedrooms, in hallways, in the kitchen, in the bathroom (something about the cool tiles pressed against her heated flesh drives Rachel wild), on the couches, on the floor, against the walls. In public, they do it in movie theatres and bowling alleys, on sidewalks and in secluded areas of neighbourhood parks, in large restaurants over-lit by cheap fluorescents, and in tiny cafes with only a single floor lamp for illumination.

Rachel _loves _it. The performer in her thrills at the freedom of being in love (and in heat) and letting the whole world know about it. For its part, the whole world - or, at least, the McKinley High student body, her parents, and random strangers - is giving her a wide berth. Rachel likes to think it's because they can't stand to get too close to her and Noah, lest they be overwhelmed by the waves of pure, unadulterated bliss emanating from them. When Kurt tells her, "Actually, Rachel, the reason no one wants to be near you and Mr. Puckerman is because the two of you are _so disgustingly cute_ it makes us want to projectile vomit. Violently. In perfect sync.", Rachel just giggles, plants a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek, and says, "Oh Kurtsie, thank you for being so happy for me!"

"Never, _ever_ do that again", Kurt replies, with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"What, call you 'Kurtsie'?"

"No. Kiss me. Do you have _any_ idea how sensitive the products I use on my face are? One negative reaction caused by a foreign chemical - because god only knows where your lips have been - and I could end up looking like a leper!"

But not even Kurt can bring Rachel down. She is gloriously, deliriously happy. _Finally_, she is a (mostly) normal girl, with a (mostly) normal boyfriend, having a (mostly) normal high school relationship. (She's not sure that normal girls have to pack several changes of underwear wherever she goes, due to the fact that her boyfriend might make her come any time, anywhere.)

One morning during study hall, Rachel drags Noah into the paper supply closet, sure that she has the perfect thing to make him scream her name and, therefore, lose the bet. Gesturing for him to sit on one of the stacks of photocopy paper so that his crotch is at eye level (she no longer kneels to pleasure him orally, because the tell-tale bruises on her knees are visible to _everyone_, due to the length of her skirts), Rachel quickly undoes his jeans, takes his penis into her hand, and begins stroking it. Once she feels he is sufficiently erect, she takes him into her mouth and slides her lips up and down his length. Noah is already moaning and bucking his hips, so Rachel ups the ante by beginning to hum "Sunshine of Your Love". She thinks this is a particularly brilliant stroke of genius, not only because of the unique rhythm of the bass guitar, but also because the song was written and performed by _Cream_. By now, Noah is thrusting so hard, she has to brace herself against his legs to keep from falling over. Just as she reaches the "Looo-o-o-o-o-o-ooooove!" part of the song, Noah collapses forward, digs his fingers into her shoulders, buries his face in her hair, and bites down on the pulse point where her neck and shoulder meet. Hard.

Rachel's body responds immediately: her nipples harden, her belly tightens, moisture pools between her legs, and a bolt of electricity shoots down her spine.

"Oh my _god, Noah_!", she cries out.

Oh no.

_Damn_.

Not being one to leave a task unfinished, Rachel finishes giving Noah his blow job. (Besides, this way, she doesn't have to look at the shit-eating grin of triumph currently spreading across his face.) Once he comes, she cleans him off (she also always makes make sure to pack baby wipes along with her extra panties), and waits for him to button his jeans. Then she says, in the flattest voice imaginable, "_Fine_. You win. You're the studliest stud there ever was in the history of Stud-dom. What do you want me to do?"

She watches with wide eyes as Noah practically _stalks_ towards her (and, if she thought she was turned on before, it's _nothing_ compared to how aroused she is now. He looks so... _dangerous_.) When he is as close to her as he can possibly be, he leans down and whispers in her ear, drawing out the words for effect: "I want you... to tell me... _exactly_ what you're feeling, now that I've won... and you've _lost_."

Rachel thinks back over the course of the week. She remembers the delight and affection in Noah's eyes every time she did or said something that made him smile, or blush, or come. She remembers how he worked _so hard_ to find new ways to excite and pleasure her, even if it was just with a perfectly chosen set of words ("I wanna pop your cherry, Berry, and lick every last drop of your sweet, sweet juice.") Mostly, though, she remembers how careful - how _gentle_ - he was with her, despite his competitive streak and clear desire to win the bet. He never pushed her too far out of her comfort zone. He never laughed - well, not _too_ hard, anyway - when one of her attempts to make him scream her name fell flat (every now and then, just as she was driving him over the edge, she'd quickly blurt, "What's my name, baby?" to try to trick him. But, it never worked. He'd always answer "princess", "baby", "honey", "lover", "my girl", "hot sexy mama", "babe", "beautiful", and practically every other term of endearment known to man... but never "Rachel"). Most importantly, though, he never made her feel that their game was _just_ a game to him. Rachel looks back over all of this, and knows _exactly_ what she's feeling.

"I love you, Noah", she says seriously, her large brown eyes looking straight into his.

* * *

_My cards are on your table_

Puck's brain has shut down (well, not completely, otherwise he'd be dead. But higher order thinking? Totally compromised.). Rachel has just told him she loves him, like it's the most natural and reasonable thing in the world. But she said it right after giving him the _best blow job ever_ (seriously, that's why he leaned over and bit her neck. He was _thisclose_ to roaring her name, and he didn't want to lose the bet. He'd had no idea that it'd make her cry out his name, though. Honest.... Okay, maybe he did, a little bit.). So Puck's not sure that she didn't say it only because she's revved up from all the hot, sweaty action. Then, he takes a closer look at her face, and her eyes, and understands that she means it. She actually, totally means it.

Fuck.

He wasn't expecting them to get to this point so soon (and definitely not in the paper supply closet at school), and now he's feeling all this _pressure_, because if he doesn't say it back right away, or if he does but says it wrong, then everything great and wonderful about what they have will turn to shit. And it'll be all his fault. Which is _totally unfair_, because it's not like he doesn't love her. How can she not know that? Sure, he doesn't say it (maybe that's _why_ she doesn't know it, dumb ass), but he shows it, doesn't he? Why else would he have done all that girly shit with the dinner, and the roses, and the iPod? How can she not know?

"How can I not know what?", asks Rachel who, he's alarmed to notice, is looking very small, and worried, and vulnerable.

Shit. Did he say that last part out loud? Damn. Taking a deep breath (here goes, Puckerman... _Don't. Fuck. It. Up._), he says, "How can you not know that I love you, too?"

Puck expected that Rachel might have several reactions to what he just said: she might kiss him, or hug him, or giggle like a little girl on Vitamin D, or shove him to the floor and take him right there (which would have been his preference, of course). What he _didn't_ expect was for Rachel to poke him sharply in his solar plexus. Twice.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?"

"_That_ was for taking so long to answer!", Rachel replied, eyes blazing. "And this," she continues, "_This_ is for eventually saying the right thing." She shoves him to the floor and takes him right there.

Sort of.

Just as she's about to remove her shirt, Puck reaches up, grabs her hands, and says, "Wait, baby. Stop." (Dude! What the fuck are you doing? Rachel is about to give you the ride of your life, and you're telling her to _stop?!_) Upon her look of utter surprise, he says, "I just... I just don't want our first time to be in the paper closet at school. What happened to it being 'perfect and special and magical'?"

Rachel answers, "We love each other, Noah. Sex will be perfect and special and magical wherever we do it." She quickly undoes his jeans, reaches for his dick, and says wickedly, "Want to see?"

But Puck... can't. (Well, _of course _he _can_... he's the God of Sex. He can do it any time, any where, any place, any position... even blindfolded with one arm tied behind his back. This, as most of the housewives in Lima could tell you, is a scientifically proven fact.) But, he doesn't want to. Not now, not like this. Looking away from Rachel, he says quietly, "No, babe. Let's not. I wanna give you exactly what you've always wanted, and I know you want the candles - okay, maybe not the candles", he admits, seeing the look on Rachel's face. "But, definitely the low lighting, and the flowers, and the soft music, and all that stuff."

Taking his face in both her hands, Rachel croons, "Awww... you're just the sweetest widdle romantic Pucksie, aren't you?"

"Shut up, I am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

Puck rolls over, pins Rachel down, and begins tickling her mercilessly. When she can no longer breathe because she's squealing and laughing so hard, he scoops her up and settles her in his lap. They stay like that for a while, she catching her breath, and he reveling in the scent of her hair. After a few minutes, Rachel looks up at him and says, "Noah, it really is unnecessary for you to continue going to such lengths to make our first sexual experience together special. I think we should have learned by now that the best laid - pardon the pun - plans don't always work out the way they should, and that perhaps we should simply relax and enjoy each other's company and bodies, and when the time is right for us to engage in full sexual intercourse, we will."

"I know, but..."

"But what?"

"God... I was _so mean_ to you, Rach! I slushied you at least once a day, and made your life a living hell for almost two years! And I used you to get back at Quinn because she made me feel like shit, and also to get back at Finn because I knew he had a crush on you and seeing you with me was gonna hurt him. I was so tired of how _everything _I wanted came to him so fucking easy! And then I pulled you into the whole baby drama bullshit, even though I knew it hurt you because you still cared for Finn, but you were there for me anyway. And now you're _with_ me, and you _love _me, and I don't deserve it. So I wanna prove to you that I do!"

Puck lets out a deep breath, and runs his hand over his Mohawk. He's not sure where all that stuff came from, but it feels really good to say it. Looking down at Rachel, he waits for her response. Once again, it isn't what he expected.

"Noah, you're an idiot."

The _hell_?

"You think I didn't think about any of that before we got back together? You think I didn't know that becoming involved with you was a huge risk, because you were _such an asshole_ to me, and I wasn't 100-percent sure that you wouldn't be again? I did, Noah. I saw what you were. But I also saw what you were becoming. You changed, Noah. You grew up. You made mistakes, and were an asshole - "You said that, already, Berry." - but you owned up to it. You're brave, and you're strong in the ways that matter - not that your guns aren't impressive, of course, because they most certainly are - and you're loyal, and sweet, and gentle, and I love you." Turning around to straddle him, she finishes, "Let me show you."

As she leans in to softly press her lips against his, Puck thinks that he is _the _luckiest guy in the world. He runs his hands up Rachel's back, before digging his fingers into her hair and deepening the kiss. As he opens his mouth to welcome her tongue, he breathes, "Oh, Rachel", happy to be able to call out her name again.

"Oh, Puck", she sighs, as she grinds her hips down into him.

"Oh, Rachel", he says again, as his fingers travel along the hem of her skirt, and eventually find their way into her underwear.

"Oh, Puck!", she cries out, as she spreads her knees wider for him so he can stroke her, while she slides her hand into his jeans.

"Ohh, _Rachel_!", he groans, as she cups his balls and begins massaging them.

"Oh! Puck! Rachel! What are you two doing in here?!"

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. _

"On second thought, don't answer that", says Tina, coming up behind Artie, whose mouth is still hanging open in shock. "We can _see_ what you two are doing in here."

Rachel leaps off Puck in a show of agility that has him wondering what _else_ she can do with that tiny body of hers, and quickly straightens herself out. Puck, on the other hand, stands up languidly and slowly redoes his jeans, his trademark smirk upon his face. He goes over to Rachel and puts his arm around her, before giving Artie and Tina the once-over. Then he says, "Yeah. We were just doing what it looks like _you two_ came in here to do."

At this, Artie's mouth snaps shut, and his face turns bright red, while Tina's stutter makes a return appearance. "N-no, w-w-we just c-came in here be-be-because we n-needed some paper f-for art class, a-a-and..."

"Save it guys. I've seen you two drooling over each other during glee practice -"

"Really?", Artie interrupts, in his usual dry, matter-of-fact tone. "I'm surprised you even noticed, given how you're always undressing Rachel with your eyes. And sometimes with your hands".

Ignoring him, Puck continues, "So it's about time you got it on." Making a grand sweeping gesture with his arm, he says, "The room's yours. We're done here."

As he leads Rachel out the door, he bends over and growls in her ear,

"For now."

* * *

_My dreams are in your bed_

The first time Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman have sex, it's in the choir room at school. After hours. On top of the grand piano. (If Tinkles only knew.)

The school is empty because, as Principal Figgins said to Rachel when he gave her the keys to the main door of building, "I had to give the security staff the night off. It's bingo night at the senior citizens' home, and they need all the back-up they can get." He nods knowingly. "I trust that the school will be safe in your hands, Miss Berry?"

"Of _course_, Principal Figgins! You know that I would _never_ allow any suspicious persons on school grounds, or participate in any untoward behaviour that could besmirch William McKinley High School, named for the greatest President that ever lived!", Rachel gushed in her best "I-am-the-most-responsible-student-you'll-ever-have" voice.

Rachel and Puck are staying late to work on a duet that Rachel _just knows_ is going to help them win at Regionals. She had gone through her fathers' extensive jazz collection over the weekend, and discovered Etta James' "At Last". She thinks it's the _perfect_ song because it's a jazz standard (which will win over the older, more conservative judges), she can belt it out to the rafters (which will win over everybody), and "Because, Noah, it is our song. _At last,_ we have found our love, which will be made clear by our _obvious_ chemistry on stage, as we serenade each other while staring deeply into each other's eyes. The judges will be _so overcome_ by such a rich and textured performance by two people who are so young, but who _clearly_ possess an emotional depth beyond their years, that they will have _no choice_ but to recognize that officially."

Puck doesn't say anything, just looks at Rachel with love in his eyes. These days, that's pretty much how he looks at her all the time. Yes, he knows he's pathetic. Yes, he knows he's whipped. And, no, he doesn't care. Rachel is _his_, and he is _hers_ - that's the only thing that matters to him. (Well, that, and his little girl. And also that he's _still_ a badass, especially with his nun-chucks. Just ask any of the fuckers he's beat down at fight club.)

For her part, Rachel is glad that Mr. Schue turned out to be right: there _is_ a boy out there who loves all the things she'd like to change about herself. She knows that she can be obsessive, and bossy, and exacting, yet Noah is here with her, late on a Tuesday evening, rehearsing the same song over, and over, and over again, until she feels it's perfect. (Except, of course, it is never _perfectly_ perfect, which is why she gets up from the piano bench, where she has been re-arranging a section of the duet, and asks Noah to run through it again.)

Puck and Rachel walk to the centre of the room, and stand a few feet apart, facing each other. She begins, her voice ringing pure and true:

_At last_

_My love has come along_

_My lonely days are over_

_And life is like a song_

He continues, his rougher, less-refined voice creating a nice contrast to her perfectly clear tones:

_At last_

_The skies above are blue_

_My heart was wrapped up in clovers_

_The night I looked at you_

They harmonize, the warmth of his voice providing the ground for her soaring melody:

_I found a dream that I could speak to_

_A dream that I can call my own_

_I found a thrill to rest my cheek to_

_A thrill that I have never known_

Then finally, they sing in unison:

_Well, you smile, you smile_

_Oh, and then the spell was cast_

_And here we are in heaven_

_For you are mine_

_At last_

By the time they finish, they have somehow ended up face to face, nose to nose, breath to breath. They stare deeply into each other's eyes (just like Rachel said they would) for the longest moment. Then, in a voice thick with emotion, Puck says, "You're mine, Rachel. _Mine_."

Rachel answers, "Absolutely, Noah. And you are mine."

Their lips meet at the same time, in a soft, tender kiss that quickly grows in depth and intensity, as though they can't get enough of each other. And, it's true. They _can't_ get enough of each other. It's not as though they haven't kissed before - they've done all sorts of things before. But, there's something about _this_ kiss, in particular, that feels different. Maybe it's because of the way their voices blended together as they sang. Maybe it's because of the song itself. Maybe it's because of the way they looked at each other when they finished singing, eyes full of emotions that couldn't be expressed with words. Or, maybe it's simply because they're staying late on a Tuesday evening, doing what they love with the person they love. (And maybe also because they're both still really, _really _horny.)

Whatever the reason, Puck and Rachel are kissing fiercely, their tongues slipping and sliding around each other, while their fingers dance all over their bodies. Rachel is whimpering Noah's name, while Puck can only groan with pleasure into her mouth.

"Noah", Rachel pants when she comes up for air. "I want you. I need you. _Now_."

Puck grunts in response, and picks Rachel up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and begins to kiss him again. Puck starts walking, with the intention of taking her over to the risers and having his way with her there. But, because his view is obscured by a Rachel-shaped figure, he ends up walking straight into the piano.

"Ouch!" Rachel cries out, as her tailbone meets the hard edge of the instrument.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, babe", he apologizes. "I couldn't see where I was going because _someone_ was blocking my view."

"Bite me", Rachel replies.

"Okay", says Puck. He sets her down on top of the piano, brushes her hair aside, and bites down on the pulse point where her neck and shoulder meet. Hard. Rachel screams in pleasure and arches her back. She then wraps her legs around his waist and pulls his body flush against hers.

"You are _so_ going to get punished for that", she says.

"Oh, yeah?", Puck challenges. "What are you gonna do to me, Berry?"

"_This._" She uses one hand to grab the back of his head and press his mouth to hers, sucking and nibbling on his lower lip, while she snakes her other hand up his shirt and scores her fingernails down his back.

"_Jesus_!", Puck yells. "That's it, Berry. You are going _down_."

"No, Noah," she tells him with a mischievous look in her eye. "You are."

With that, she leans back on the piano, draws her knees up, and quickly removes her underwear. "Taste me, Noah", she begs. "Touch me. Take me."

In an instant, Puck is there. Like, _totally there_. He uses one arm to support Rachel at her back, and uses the other to brace himself against the curved edge of the piano. He then dips his head under Rachel's skirt, presses his face into the downy hair between her legs, and takes a long, slow, lick. Rachel shudders from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, so he does it again. And again. And again. As Rachel begins to buck against his face, Puck slips two fingers deep inside her, and curls them upwards.

"Oh, _yeeeeesssss_!", Rachel moans, as Puck begins to slide his fingers in and out. "God, Puck, please don't stop! Please don't _ever_ stop!" She is riding his hand hard and fast now, and Puck can tell that she's going to come very soon. He wants to taste her when she does, so he inserts a third finger, then takes her clit into his mouth. He times the sucking of her clit with the thrusting of her hips, faster, and faster, and faster, until,

"Oh, _god_! _Yes, yes, yes, yesssssssss_!" Puck's pretty sure that the note Rachel just hit would be impossible for anyone other than his girl. It makes him proud.

Standing upright again, he removes his fingers from within Rachel, and starts to bring them up to his mouth. He wants to savour every last drop of her sweet, berry-flavoured juice. Rachel, however, takes his hand and brings it up to her own mouth. Then she slowly and deliberately licks off each of the fingers he had inside her, all while looking straight at him. Puck's eyes almost roll back in his head, he is so turned on. He can't believe that this girl - this hot, beautiful, sexy, _dirty_ girl - is his.

Rachel, quickly recovering from her orgasm and getting ready for round two, kicks off her flats, hooks one leg around Puck and brings him back up against her body. She begins to kiss him all over his face, reveling especially in the fullness of his lips. "Oh, Noah... I want you so much", she breathes. "Make love to me?"

"Yes", is his only reply, before grabbing her face between his hands and kissing her deeply. Rachel undoes the buttons of his shirt, and slides it off his shoulders. She then trails her fingers lightly down his chest, giggling softly when his stomach contracts at her touch. Reaching his belt, she makes quick work of the buckle, before swiftly undoing the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper. When her fingers find his penis almost immediately, she thinks that Noah picked a _really_ good day to go commando.

By this point, Puck has snapped open Rachel's bra (with one hand, of course, because he _is_ the man), and is slowly lifting her sweater over her head. Once it's off, she removes her bra, and he wraps his arms around her so that the soft flesh of her boobs rubs against his bare chest. "God, Rachel", he whispers, "I love you."

Their bodies are moving almost of their own accord now, kissing each other hungrily. Rachel runs her nails up and down Puck's back, while he teases her nipples with each hand. She arches into his touch, legs spread wide beneath her skirt. Puck can feel her heat against his belly, and it almost makes him come. Reaching around to his back pocket, he removes his wallet. Rachel takes it from him, opens it, and removes a condom. "Here, baby. Let me", she says. She uses her hands, and then her feet, to push his jeans down his legs until they're puddled around his ankles. Opening the small foil packet, she slowly rolls the condom on, gently stroking him all the time. Puck's hips jerk, and his dick twitches automatically. He _can't wait _to be inside his girl, feeling her tightness envelop him.

Leaning back on the piano again, Rachel looks Puck in the eye and commands, "Fuck me, Noah. Hard."

There's no need to tell him twice.

He hooks one arm under Rachel's leg to hoist it over his shoulder, and uses his free hand to guide his dick into her. She's _soooo_ tight, and wet, and hot, the sensation almost makes him faint. (Almost.) Slowly, he pushes deeper and deeper, until Rachel makes a little squeak of pain.

"I'm sorry, baby. Does it hurt?"

"Yes", she whimpers.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Just wait."

So he does. He can feel Rachel try to relax, attempting to get used to the sensation of being so completely filled by him. Gently, oh-so-gently, she starts to clench and unclench her muscles around his dick. It's almost too much to bear, but he understands that this is what she needs to do. So he remains perfectly still and thinks about dead mailmen.

Soon, she exhales deeply, and says to him, "Okay. Now."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Puck begins to pull out of her. When he's almost out, he slowly slides back in. He does it twice more, until Rachel hooks her other leg around his waist, in order to push him in deeper. That's how he knows that _it is on._ He starts pumping faster, watching as Rachel's eyes flutter closed and her head falls back. She starts to make that low, rumbling sound in her throat again, which drives him even faster and harder. The feeling of being inside her is better than he'd ever imagined. He just... fits, and it comforts him in a way he wasn't expecting.

The heat generated by Noah's penis sliding in and out of her, coupled with the almost feral growls he's making, causes Rachel to writhe in ecstasy. She takes her leg off his shoulder and draws her knees up, opening her legs wide to take Noah in as deeply as she can. She is unable to form words: just whimpers, pants, and moans of intense, immense pleasure. She never thought she could feel like this. She never thought she could be as connected to someone as she is right now. It brings tears to her eyes which, for some reason, only heightens her desire.

As she starts to feel a warm, buzzing pressure build deep within her, she sits up and locks her arms around Noah's neck, pressing her body to his. The feeling of her over-sensitized nipples rubbing against the hairs on his chest drives her into a frenzy, and she drags her fingers down the hard, muscular planes of his back, before digging them into his taut behind. Realizing that she is about to climax like she never has before, her throat opens and "_UNF-UNF-UNF!_" comes pouring out. Noah is biting into her shoulder again, and making the same noise, only louder, and deeper. He's fucking her _so hard_ now, she actually slides a few inches across the top of the piano. She synchronizes the bucking of her hips to the rhythm of Noah's thrusts, riding him as he rides her. She is so wet and slick, she wonders how he's managing to stay inside her at all. They buck and thrust and thrust and buck until finally - _finally_ - they come together in one long, wordless, exultant shout.

Panting, Noah collapses on top of Rachel, his penis still buried deep within her. Pushing her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, he says, "How was that, baby?"

Rachel pretends to consider his question for a moment, before replying, "You were right, Noah."

"Right about what?"

"They _aren't_ rumours."

* * *

The end.

(Sort of.)


	4. Epilogue

TITLE: The Seduction - An Epilogue

DISCLAIMERS AND OTHER STUFF: See Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just because I love you all so much! Thanks for continuing to read, review, alert, and favourite my story.

* * *

Noah Puckerman gives Rachel Berry a small velvet box on the one-month anniversary of "you giving it up to me, babe."

"I most certainly _did not_ '_give_ anything _up_' to you, Noah Puckerman! I am a modern, twenty-first-century woman, who is in charge of her body and in control of her sexual agency. I _chose_ to _share_ myself with you!"

"Whatever, Berry. _Jeez_. Just calm down and open the box, already!"

She does. Nestled inside is a charm bracelet, adorned with gold stars, treble clefs, eighth notes, and quarter notes...

... and one tiny, delicately wrought, grand piano.

* * *

The End.

(For real, this time.)


End file.
